Ghost Ship (Galactic Alliance Dominion of Widek Hex)

[Zark San Tekka]

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GHOST SHIP​

Galactic Alliance Dominion of Widek Hex​

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"We should be dropping out of hyperspace shortly, Admiral," Commander Bashir, Mon Calamari XO of the ANS Hereafter, reported.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Zark mumbled quietly, still gazing out the small forward viewport at the front of the star carrier's command deck.

The Vice Admiral was the leader of this expedition into the Farlax sector, where the latest sightings of Codename Valencia had been reported. The Valencia itself was supposedly a phantom derelict that had been drifting out from the Unknown Regions towards the Core through the use of intermittent short hyperspace jumps.

For months the Strategic Intelligence Service had written the accounts off as local folk legend or some form of elaborate prank, but too many legitimated sources have corroborated the tales of a drifting, unresponsive star destroyer. To this date, no first hand witnesses of the Valencia's passing have been recovered, the only evidence of her existence obtained from the data logs of inexplicably abandoned starships the destroyer leaves in her wake.

"Reversion in three...two...one."

The GADF expeditionary group exploded back into realspace on the edge of the target nebula, swirling cosmic gases immediately shrouding the Admiral's view and causing static interference on sensor stations throughout the bridge. The phantom traveler was projected to drop from hyperspace and pass through the nebula any moment now.

"No going back now," Bashir's voice was grim.

Under better circumstances, an Alliance science team would have taken a more delicate approach, but they no longer had the luxury of time. Six days ago the Valencia had passed through the outer edge of the inhabited Galantos system, and upon reestablishing contact with their frontier outpost, the system's native Fians had discovered no sign of all two hundred eighty seven souls who had moments before served as station personnel.

The ghost ship's present course would soon bring it within several AUs of the nonaligned border world of Widek, far too close for the planetary government's comfort. They had asked the Alliance for help, and since the Triumvirate had agreed it was now Zark's duty to manifest the will of that pledge.

"Contact!" a raised voice called from the bridge's main sensor station, "Hyperspace reversion detected, close proximity!"

Through nebula mists, the Jedi Master caught a glimpse of a star destroyer's outline.

"Inform first contact teams that they are go for launch."


Jedi, Soldiers, Mercs, and Agents: Participate in the boarding of the ghost ship Valencia, a derelict star destroyer drifting from out of the Unknown Regions that leaves no surviving witnesses in its wake.

Pilots, Freighter Captains, and Naval Officers: Join in on an escort patrol through the nebula, prepare to contend with the contents of the Valencia's not so abandoned hangar bay, as the destroyer will eventually launch a complement of phantom TIEs.

Diplomats, Entrepreneurs, Civilians and Scoundrels: Join the investigation team in an advisory capacity, offer support for the panicking Widek planetary government, assist in quelling civil unrest and evacuation efforts as word begins to leak to the populace about the potential danger heading their way.

And of course, BYOO - Bring Your Own Objective!

 

[Gir Quee]

Union-class C/A Carrier Ocean Tide, somewhere in the Farlax Sector

The arrowhead-shaped carrier slid through space, leading a host of smaller vessels through what frequently had been troubled space. The Farlax Sector seemed to rarely merit notice during Gir's lifetime, yet the sector always stood out to him from its past with the Black Fleet Crisis. The Yevatha-orchestrated genocides and the consequent New Republic response, even though it occurred an untold amount of years ago, still offered lessons to be learned to military and astronavigational professionals. Gir walked around the Tide's Space Operation's Center, viewing ancient holo footage of the Battle of ILC-905 splayed out across the entire room. He walked around Commodore Brand's Indomitable, noting the bright flares around the ship's bow shielding just as the Vanguard began to disintegrate under sustained Yevatha missile fire. Gir turned to young mon calamari who followed in his wake.

"What do you make of it?" said the blonde man, gesturing at the pair of New Republic warships.

Kolit shifted from side to side, "He made a sacrificial play to eventually gain victory."

"War is almost always about some sort of sacrifice," mused Gir, "it's rarely a question of if there is going to be a sacrifice. The question to really ask is if the sacrifice is worth it in the end. From a purely tactical standpoint, I think it's hard to argue that losing the Vanguard and dozens of fighters is worth not only the shipyards, but their entire defending force. From a strategic standpoint, I think that if he lost his entire force, and still managed to destroy the shipyards, it would be a victory. Especially if the war dragged on."

"But it didn't, uncle."

"No," agreed Gir, "but you never know the future in these circumstances."

A brief chirp emanated from his comlink, causing Gir to unclip the device and tap a button, "Quee here."

"Sir, your presence is requested on the bridge."

"I'll be there shortly. Quee out."

Hopkins usually can handle anything that comes our way. I wonder what has come up...

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Sullust -> Widek
Objective: Patrolling
Allies: GA
Enemies: Valencia

After the Contingency was retreating further into the Rishi Maze, with Operation Faraday only resulting in slight dents into the enemy fleet, Cathul had to make do with some of the more troublesome reports pertaining to the disappearance of a ship called the Valencia. Yes, there were thousands of people that died fighting the Contingency, GA, FO, GE, SJ, ORC, ML or otherwise. She spent the following weeks on Sullust processing the numerous decorations, funerals and whatnot that came after this engagement. Yet an emergency meeting came to the attention of the admiral, whereby more troubling news were forthcoming. The last thing the GA needed after Operation Faraday was a wave of ship disappearances, and the main fleets were busy being repaired or patrolling key routes, with medvac still sorting out the survivors from Tartarus and handling them, and taking over for Cardea Medical Station while still being repaired. But a missile cruiser has no business handling medvac, and, as such the Bulldozer was where she was to be for the time being. In the Bulldozer's CIC:

"There has been most troubling reports, admiral. Ships have disappeared after coming into contact with one ship called the Valencia" the communications officer reported in.

"First Mentina, then the GE and now this? We can't spare more than a patrol force to deal with the Valencia. However, where was it last spotted?"

"Widek"

"All units, set course for Widek"

A small patrol squadron, 2 fighter squadrons later, Cathul would be seated in the pilot's seat of the Bulldozer and run the topological calculations of flying in hyperspace from Sullust to Widek to respond to this new sighting of the Valencia, with rumors saying that the ship is haunted, or inhabited with a malevolent entity that eats ships alive. With its MIRVs primed, and ready for battle, there was no telling what would await the Bulldozer and its escorts. Once again they ventured into the unknown...

Spoiler

Capital ships:

ANS Bulldozer (Felucia-class missile cruiser)
ANS Skor (Skor-class artillery frigate)
ANS Frivolous Lawsuit (Hardcell-X-class anti-starfighter frigate)
ANS Due Process (Hardcell-X-class anti-starfighter frigate)

Attack craft:

12 T-70 X-Wings
12 Chiloon-II fast bombers

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Location: The Planet Widek [Core Worlds]
Objective: Be Diplomatic

"We will not allow your ships to enter the system!"

To be entirely honest, Shoma was not accustomed to being yelled at. The so-called 'Atrisian no' was a bit of an art form, talking around the issue without ever directly confronting it. Because Atrisian culture tended to look for alternatives to confrontation. It was awkward, uncomfortable, and rarely ever productive. But, it was efficient when people of other cultures got directly to the point.

It just was also a little overwhelming sometimes.

Wide-eyed and somewhat taken aback, the boy had a bit of a buffer in that his protocol droid was translating the man's statements into Atrisian. Shoma spoke fluent Basic of course, even if it was a second language for him. The act of having the protocol droid go through the motions of translation was more a measure of allowing himself time with which to contemplate and compose a proper response.

This being a prince thing was much harder than he'd originally thought. "Minister, it is merely a..." the boy began, trailing off a moment as the youngling paused to consider his words carefully. "...precaution," he uttered a moment later.

The idea was simple. Pre-stage a flotilla of super freighters and heavy transports capable of effecting evacuation of the planet should it prove necessary. The planetary representative that Shoma was interacting with was... less than receptive to the idea.

"I will not condone a course that will lead this populace into a planet-wide panic," the man uttered. Barked was more like it. He was of the very Alpha Male classification of political leaders. Tall. Powerfully built. Loomed over the people he spoke with. Stood behind a large desk and pounded the table.

And pointed fingers. At Shoma. "We trusted your Alliance would handle this threat," the minister shouted hoarsely."I expect your Alliance to do precisely that."

How was it possible that Shoma needed a nap just from being in the same room with this man? As the finger was leveled and the ultimatum issued, the young Atrisian noble was struck at how exhausting this encounter was for him.

Pressing his hands together, the youngling gave a bow toward the minister to demonstrate his deference to the man's position. "You asked for our aid," the boy offered in a neutral tone, as he straightened back up. "You will have it, but I hope you would consider..."

"...this conversation over?" the minister interjected, pointedly interrupting the boy. "Quite."

No, what Shoma had been trying to say was consider all of the options. Forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes, the boy folded his arms before him and replied, "Thank you for your time, Minister. We leave as friends."

With that, the boy took a step back and started to turn toward the door.

"That remains to be seen."

The boy didn't turn around, instead merely keeping his eyes forward as he started to take another step.

"Oh, and tell your superiors... I expect next time that they'll send someone more qualified to speak with me."

...exhausting was proving to be an understatement.

By the time the door had shut behind him and he stood out in the lobby, he let go a heavy sigh that seemed to release all the strength he'd left in him. He had no idea a twenty minute conversation could be that tiring.

The Alliance leadership seemed to believe the stories surrounding this so-called Valencia were so much spacer make-believe. Maybe this would turn out to be nothing, and they could all get back to other tasks. Shoma had a featherpush competition at the Sullust temple he was supposed to compete in later in the week, and he hadn't had hardly any time to practice his technique.

"Lord Shoma."

The silver plated protocol droid was lumbering toward him. "We've just received a transmission from the one of the Alliance ships," GeeGee stated. For a moment, he had enough optimism that this was the official word that the mission was cancelled because it had all turned out to be some spacer crying that the sky was falling.

"They have encountered a vessel which they believe to be the Valencia."

 

[Tamara]

Spoiler

Jedi, Soldiers, Mercs, and Agents

Spoiler

: Participate in the boarding of the ghost ship Valencia, a derelict star destroyer drifting from out of the Unknown Regions that leaves no surviving witnesses in its wake.

On board the Hereafter had gathered a boarding party to investigate the mysterious ship. This ‘ghost ship’, the Valencia had been something of an enigma for some time. Now though it had been tracked down. Simply destroying the ship would yield no answers – and considering its firepower might be difficult to do.
And so a boarding party of Jedi and non-Jedi had gathered to make the run.

In the second category was a young looking woman dressed in light combat armour and wearing a helmet. To any passing Jedi or other Force sensitive she would appear completely unremarkable, like any other Force-Blind mercenary or soldier.

“Alright team, you are go for launch, strap in!” an officer called.

The woman headed for the closest combat shuttle. She sat down and buckled herself in.
“What do you think it is?” the soldier beside her asked.
“It’s a ghost ship. Obviously ghosts,” the woman replied calmly.
He couldn’t see her small smile underneath the helmet. “I don’t think that’s likely,” he said.
She shrugged and settled back to wait. Soon enough they’d be taking off.

 

[Naamah Aesham]

[member="Tamara"]


Her Force Signature was obfuscated. The same applied to her dark aura. To any Jedi or other Force-sensitive who happened to be aboard the ship, she would appear like a completely mundane non-Force-user who was as Force-sensitive as a plank. One of the first lessons in the Inquisition had been to conceal your Force presence. She had never been a powerhouse, but it was one of the skills she was quite good at.


Furthermore, she was a shapeshifter. Presently, she looked like a Chiss female. Her ID, if anyone had cared to check it, would say that she was a mercenary called Akure. It was one of her many faces, but she was quite fond of this one. Her lightsabre was carefully concealed, for making use of it was a last resort.


When the shuttle took off, she was silent. Her expression remained stoic, as if it had been carved out of stone. She did not engage in witty banter with the party of intrepid adventurers who had the good fortune or misfortune of boarding the ghost ship. Her eyes fell upon the woman who made a quip about ghosts. She seemed familiar.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"What...in the hell was that?" despite years in the military and years before that commanding starships, the Vice Admiral wasn't quite sure he had seen anything quite like the advance team's last holocomm.

"Unknown, sir," Commander Bashir managed at last, clearly perturbed like all the rest at what he and the rest of the bridge crew had just witnessed, "Scanning the Alliance's exotic species database for possible matches in profile."

"Search the New Jedi Order remote archives as well," Zark added, not entirely sure that what had just attacked his men was something natural.

Things had gotten weird from the moment the first team had boarded the drifting Valencia, greeted by an empty hangar deck and little of note except for odd communication interference. As the team had advanced into the ship's interior, the interference had worsened, but the command deck of the Hereafter had witnessed a fading holorecording of the Alliance scouts coming under direct assault by what appeared to be the ship's crew, wearing uniforms the admiral did not recognize but were unmistakably Imperial. There had been a frenzied look in their eyes, as if they were fighting for their very survival.

But every possible explanation he could come up with for what they were witnessing had been blown out the airlock when a cloud of seemingly animate smoke had hurtled into visual range of the few surviving scouts and...it appeared to have forced its way down the Alliance commander's throat. Then the comm signal had cut out entirely.


The second wave of first contact specialists had already landed in the destroyer's hangar bay, it was too late to turn back now.

"All teams," Zark's voice crackled over the comms on each transport, "Be advised, contact with wave one has been lost, expected casualties. Proceed with extreme caution, the crew is to be presumed hostile. Secure the command deck and main reactor core. Your mission objectives are to access the ship's logs if possible and, if necessary, scuttle her. You may attempt to locate any survivors from team one, but remember we're on the clock here."

There was a notable pause even though the comm line remained active.

"If you see black smoke, run. Do not engage it, and report in immediately. Vice Admiral Zark out."

[member="Gir Quee"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Shoma Ike"] | [member="Tamara"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"]​

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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On board the Valencia, Widek System, Farlax Sector, The Core Worlds​

Interacting With: [member='Zark'], [member='Tamara'], [member='Naamah Aesham'], [member='Bellek Eronoss']​

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Aryn groaned as he shifted in the cramped maintenance tunnel. While the other boarding team had opted to head for one of the empty hangars aboard the massive derelict, Aryn had chosen a more isolated option. With his ship mag-locked to the hull outside, he'd sliced through one of the exterior access panels right into the maintenance tunnels, and found himself cramped and uncomfortable as he made his way through to the empty hallways. Bringing down his heavy boot, he slammed it against the grate beneath him, shifting it slightly, but not forcing it out of its socket. Bringing his foot up again, he slammed it down once more as the grate fell through onto the metal floor below, its clattering echoing out into the eerily empty hallways of the dark ship.

Carefully, Aryn shifted his body to slip through the opening, dropping onto the floor below as he glanced up and down the hallway he stood in. He had entered through one of the ventral panels, and having not gone upwards he figured he was still quite low in the ships decks, and towards the stern as well. The silence around him was broken by the sound of the Admiral's voice in his earpiece, and he groaned slightly at its intrusion. It briefly reminded him of his time in the rebellion, but those were times long past, no, he'd gone legitimate now. Bringing his commlink up to his lips, he keyed it into Zark and the other boarding parties transport. "Hostile Crew and black smoke - got it. Team two's inside now, we might make our way down to the reactor core if you're alright to take the command deck, Team one."

Lowering his commlink as he waited for a response, Aryn took a few steps to the side and peered back up towards the maintenance tunnel he'd come from. He figured his presence wouldn't be hidden long as he reached out and caught the BB droid that rolled out of the maintenance tunnel next, carefully lowering it to the deck. Reaching back, he carefully drew his vibrosword from his sheathe, keeping it at the ready as he prepared to move into the belly of the beast.

 

[Trextan Voidstalker]

[member="Gir Quee"] [member="Tamara"] [member="Naamah Aesham"] [member="Aryn Teth"]

"Be advised possible contaminants. All personnel boarding to use CBR equipment," came a message after the warning from the admiral reached them. Trextan sighed. Knowing that the forward team had already been lost he didn't want to waste more time putting the fiddly kit on.

"Rhian, Holso, keep guard whilst we switch up," the lieutenant called. He wasn't even thirty but commanded an entire platoon of soldiers. Trextan knew he was young to be in the field fighting, but it always took him back just how much the young absorbed the burden of war.

The squads emerged back from the shuttle a few minutes later. His head was now fully enclosed with something he could only describe as a glass bucket. Great for visibility he supposed.

"Did they specify what kind of threat?" Trextan asked over the squad channel.

"Comm chatter suggests it was the B in CBRN, but no idea what."

The soldiers flicked on the lights on their blaster rifles. Trextan took point. For now he kept his lightsaber on his belt and kept a small flashlight in his hand as they headed for where the first team had gone comms silent.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Widek
Objective: Patrolling
Allies: GA [member="Zark"] [member="Gir Quee"]
Enemies: Valencia

"We have arrived in the Widek system" the pilot of the Bulldozer reported in.

"Incoming transmission from Zark"

"Patch it through"

"If you see black smoke, run. Do not engage it, and report in immediately. Vice Admiral Zark out."

While the patrol flotilla just arrived over Widek, it was clear enough that there was more than just a destroyer shrouded in black smoke, the variety used by ELINT ships to detect cloaked ships. But the Valencia wasn't cloaked; the ship was simply, well, there. Yet there was another set of enemies chasing it. A rogue Acclamator and its escorts, two Carracks. What would the party hope to gain by destroying the Valencia was irrelevant to her now; on the sensor screens there was an indication of these rogues deploying seven squadrons of... LAATs? What kind of faction would use LAATs in place of fighters these days? she thought, while reminded that LAATs are intended for close-air support, and not for full-on dogfighting; that was one of the big mistakes Jor Drakas made in his defense of Sarapin prior to his death. And these fighters were headed towards the Valencia; stopping them would have meant drawing those LAATs away from the Valencia and its host complement of fighters... and also having to face thirteen squadrons with only two squadrons. Even with the point-defense advantage, she knew it would not have been wise.

"Battle stations! We have to take out those rogues! Keep our fighters in a defensive screen"

"It appears we're still out of range and the enemy is out of heavy turbolaser range" the sensor technician

"Skor, fire on the enemy Acclamator" she ordered, with the 420mm HVC volley being fired at the enemy Acclamator.

Spoiler

Capital ships:

ANS Bulldozer (Felucia-class missile cruiser)
ANS Skor (Skor-class artillery frigate)
ANS Frivolous Lawsuit (Hardcell-X-class anti-starfighter frigate)
ANS Due Process (Hardcell-X-class anti-starfighter frigate)

Attack craft:

12 T-70 X-Wings
12 Chiloon-II fast bombers

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"Incoming transmission from Admiral Thuku, sir," the junior officer caught his attention as he paced by, frowning as she turned back to her station, "Having some trouble clearing it up, its almost as if interference from the nebula is growing worse, Admiral."

"Show me what you've got so far," Zark took the proffered datapad with a nod of gratitude, brow creasing as he scrutinized its barely legible contents. When he had pieced together enough of the message's intent, he unconsciously released a growl in frustration, "Pirates."

Its view significantly enhanced by the Hereafter's exterior sensors, he could just make out pinpricks of turbolaser fire and hypervelocity impacts against a void of space nearer to the system's habitable zone. The scheming opportunists had picked the perfect time to strike, with the Vice Admiral's forces engaged in highly dangerous boarding operations, there was a limit to what aid he was currently in a position to provide Therapy Command. Whether their interests lie ultimately on the planet's surface or within the Valencia itself, if they overwhelmed Thuku there was no telling the havoc they could wreak before Alliance reinforcements finally arrived.

"Send out a general distress, and get word to Thuku to do the same if she can," he ordered.

"Aye sir, but with this rise in interference the odds of boosting our signal to even reach Therapy Command are-"

"Low. Got it," Zark interrupted, waving his subordinate's comments away as he made the mental calculations of how much he could afford to spare to bolster Alliance forces now under attack outside the nebula.

"Sir," Commander Bashir called out behind him in an odd tone of voice.

"A moment, Commander," he raised his finger without glancing back, his eyes in fact closed to help him concentrate.

"Admiral!" the tenor of the Mon Cal's voice resolved into panic, and when Zark finally did look back his executive was staring mouth agape at the viewport in front of them, as wave after wave of telltale eyeball silhouettes disgorged themselves from the star destroyer's hangar decks.

What in the Force? he thought to himself, momentarily unable to speak as he struggled to wrap his mind around what was happening. It wasn't that he had never seen a star destroyer launch TIEs before, during the First Order war the admiral had seen more than his fair share. But he had received reports from his first contact teams of landing in empty hangar bays just minutes ago, and the second wave was there at this very moment. They had given no indication of any kind of impending launch.

And then there was the number of them, far beyond what a destroyer of this design should be capable of carrying.

"Battle stations!" the Jedi Master shouted at last, compelled at last to action when the phantom attack craft aligned into an obvious attack formation, "Shields up! All squadrons are go for launch! Intensify power to our point defense batteries!"

[member="Gir Quee"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Shoma Ike"] | [member="Tamara"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="Trextan Voidstalker"]​

 

[Zark San Tekka]

If he was honest with himself, these type of assignments were always his favorite.

Yes there was the disturbing fact that this star destroyer swallowed everything alive in its path never to be heard from again, but at least he didn't have to blend in among Imperials or infiltrate a Sith compound. There was horror, and then there was horror. Right now he didn't have to worry very much about being Agent Deacon of the Strategic Intelligence Service at all, as in this particular instance his goals and the goals of Guardsman Cal Bright were aligned.

As far as the others knew, Bright had simply been one of the most senior agents on the scene, but what the other three agents of the Galactic Alliance Guard didn't realize was that their colleague's access to SIS intelligence allowed him to place himself in the right place at the right time to be selected for the first contact team. Normally their presence at such an operation would not be necessary, but whenever High Command suspected Darkside fanaticism might be at play, the Guard's Cultwatch division was brought on to consult.

When they had landed they had split into three main teams. [member="Aryn Teth"] and a team had volunteered to secure the reactor core, while [member="Trextan Voidstalker"] led a mission to search for any survivors from the first wave. The guardsmen and their Space Ops marine escort had elected to head for the command deck, and where making their slow way through intermittently lit corridors and up deactivated turbolift shafts.

"Team one checking in," Deacon whispered into his armor's comm unit. He waited several moments, but only static came in reply, "We've lost comms with the other teams."

No response from the Hereafter either.

"Well, at least the ship appears to be deserted," one of the other guardsman agents piped up hopefully on their team's internal channel.

Laser fire obliterated a flickering floodlamp over the guardsman as if in cosmic retaliation, and another blast drew a cry from one of the space marines as he was struck in the shoulder, before Deacon's team scrambled into what little cover they could find.

"More Republic scum!"

From inside a utility room, Cal Bright exchanged fire with frantic looking men and women in aging Imperial naval uniforms on either end of the corridor. Lethal blasts and stun fire crisscrossed the corridor as team one struggled to hold their position against the Valencia's violently delusional crew.

[member="Gir Quee"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Shoma Ike"] | [member="Tamara"] | [member="Naamah Aesham"]​

 

[Gir Quee]

Union-class C/A Carrier Ocean Tide, somewhere in the Farlax Sector

Gir strode the corridors of the Tide and quickly reached the nearby bridge. A quick glance at the stations showed the bridge crew was busier than usual, furthering his suspicions that something was amiss. Hopkins stood over one of the holo-tanks along with Nepo, his mon calamari communication's officer. Before either of them noticed his presence, Gir slipped up next to them and stared down into the holo-tank. Two ships dominated the view: a classic Imperial-style star destroyer and an almost tower-like ship that Gir had learned to associate with the Galactic Alliance. He frowned as he stared harder at the ships. Did a war break out between the Alliance and the First Order again? But that's not a First Order design...

"Captain Quee," said Hopkins, "an Alliance force has encountered the Valencia."

"The ghost ship that we've heard so much about?"

Hopkins nodded, "The same. They're three light years out."

Gir winced and glanced at one of the navigational holos nearby, "And its on a route that will take it towards us if we don't move. We might as well join forces with the Alliance group. The more the merrier."

Nepo cleared his throat, "I should inform you sir that a group of pirates has been encountered not far from here. Friendly forces are engaging them now."

"Well now is a good time for them to strike. Taking advantage of the chaos caused by the Valencia," guessed Gir, "but we can delay dealing with a known, rational threat later on better than an unknown. Particularly when the unknown isn't known for leaving survivors."

Gir turned to Drake, "Take us to the Alliance fleet. Nepo, start putting up the live feed from the pirate engagement in the other holo-tank. We might have to juggle our support."

"Aye sir."

[member="Zark"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"]

 

[Aanaria Vox]

Primary Objective: Board the Valencia.
Location: Initial contact shuttle.
Allies: Anyone else in the initial contact shuttle.

She had been on board the Hereafter by sheer chance, on the way to yet another routine posting with her squad to get shipped off to the back end of nowhere. But then the reports had rolled in. A ghost ship that the Alliance had been hunting for an inordinate amount of time had surfaced, and not far from their current location. It hadn't taken long for rumor to spread that the whole ship would be redirected to the system it was lurking in, and almost less time for the ship's alarms to go off, indicating a jump to hyperspace.

Aanaria had no illusion that this was an opportunity make sure her, and her squad were going to be posted somewhere more useful. Immediately she'd put in a request to be on the primary contact team and either by sheer luck or one of the higher ups finally taking note, she'd been rotated onto it - It only took a brief argument with one of the petty officers to ensure that her squad had been too. Afterall, it made no sense to be boarding a hostile environment with no known occupants without a solid team you could trust at your back.
Still, despite the familiarity of those around her (aside from a few faces she didn't recognise), she felt distinctly uneasy about this. Other than standard boarding procedures and drills, there was no precedent for disabling a ghost ship and exploring its corridors...

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Widek
Objective: Patrolling
Allies: GA @Zark @Gir Quee
Enemies: Pirates

- BATTLE MEDITATION ACTIVATED -​

"MIRVs loaded" the chief gunnery officer reported in.

"Zark seemed to be wanting to relay messages to us, but interference is far too high: can you do something?"

"All I can do now is to use battle meditation and hopefully those pirates will lose their footing"

Those pirates were opportunists, using the chaos caused the appearance of the Valencia to start striking at it in the nebula. Yes, her telepathic range was pretty long, but not long enough to reach potential reinforcements light-years away, so it was the right thing to do as Cathul starts meditating inside the CIC, with the Bulldozer's captain taking over the actual control of the flotilla. But the arrival of both the Bulldozer and the Ocean Tide forced the Valencia's fighter complement into a pretty nasty storm, for which there were 13 squadrons moving in to engage two squadrons and a few screening ships, closing in on the flotilla within standard turbolaser range, while the enemy pirate ships entered heavy turbolaser range. Which, inside a nebula, would cause it to bleed power over range faster than is the case in open space, especially since they fired within the range band between standard and heavy turbolaser range. Also, with 375 missiles being fired at those 13 squadrons of attack craft, 275 of which were actually bused inside MIRVs as launched from the Bulldozer's 55 heavy missile launchers, the enemy will likely suffer from losses before they make it within point-defense of anyone, while also reminded that the LAATs, while not very practical in a dogfight, can nevertheless fire missiles. Meanwhile, the particle shields of the enemy flagship were being drained by the six shots from the respective two volleys of 420mm HVC fire, since the Skor kept firing at it, but were not yet penetrated.

Spoiler

Capital ships:

ANS Bulldozer (Felucia-class missile cruiser) light shield damage
ANS Skor (Skor-class artillery frigate)
ANS Frivolous Lawsuit (Hardcell-X-class anti-starfighter frigate)
ANS Due Process (Hardcell-X-class anti-starfighter frigate)

Attack craft:

12 T-70 X-Wings
12 Chiloon-II fast bombers

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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On board the Valencia, Widek System, Farlax Sector, The Core Worlds​

Interacting With: Team Two​

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Aryn groaned in irritation as he crouched behind a few crates which were serving as makeshift cover in the halls. It had only been a short while after team two had gotten aboard the ship before they were engaged. As blaster bolts slammed against his cover, he cursed to himself as he only heard static over the radio. "Great, really havin' a great time with this one, aren't we?" He grumbled mostly to himself as he glanced over his shoulder. "You almost done?" BB-3 had been working on slicing into the local systems, opening a clearer path to their objective, but things were proving more difficult and complicated than Aryn would have liked. Sighing at the indignant beeping in response to his query, Aryn took a moment to shift out of his cover, firing a few careful shots with his blaster towards the ships' crew.

Three of his four shots went wide but the fourth slammed right below the neck of one of the troopers, sending his body scattering back as Aryn ducked back into cover, the other side of his barrier exploding in sparks as the troopers quickly sent a wave of retaliatory fire towards him, before readjusting to his allies. Momentarily, Aryn cursed the fact that his lightsaber was still not fully-constructed, he had always been better-off with a blade, but vibroswords couldn't block blaster shots. His lamenting was disrupted however as BB-3 beeped excitedly, indicating that he had worked out the safest path. As the droid began to disconnect from the systems, Aryn could hear the footsteps of the Imperials charging. Taking a breath, he focused on the force and turned to his cover.

Holding his hands outward, he sent the crates flying towards the incoming troopers, taking down a few as two more kept their charge up. One was downed by another troop before he could do anything, but the fourth turned their attention to Aryn. They got a shot off before Aryn could move, and the Jedi groaned as he felt the shot graze his shoulder. He maintained his movement though, bringing his sword upward to force the weapon from the soldier's hand before cutting him down with the blade, letting out more of an annoyed sigh than anything as he grabbed his arm. "Ow, nerf herder." He grumbled, turning back to his team as he motioned for them to move on, continuing along the path that BB-3 had designated for them. Hopefully they'd get to the reactor core without any more major incidents.

 

[lgmmrm]

"Karking hell!"

Jarck cursed as his A-wing lurched out of hyperspace, the right stabilizer almost disengaging (which would send him into an unrecoverable tailspin.) as he pulled a maximum-g maneuver to avoid a lone rogue asteroid, the nebula having hidden the rock from sensors. He looked to his right as his wingman, Red 5, dropped into realspace in a trail position, locking his S-foils into cruise position for the time being. The nebula obscured their sensors and made Finns one hell of a mess, but the faint signal they picked up was enough to get a heading.

"5, you heard Red Leader. We're to join the patrol and assist if necessary."

"Which to you means if we see any fire, you're going to stick around and engage. Why do I always get paired with you, Jarck?" These two always loved to bicker with each other, to the point that they'd been nicknamed by the nuggets in the squadron as "the squadron grandparents." Jarck refused to admit that he'd never survive without Jhuagar, and Jhuagar would never admit that there was no chance getting into an A-wing without Jarck's guidance.

" 'cause you're the only X-wing pilot in the fleet who'll put up with me. Stick close to my 8 O'clock, this nebula's playing hell with my sensors. Can't see the f- there they are."

"ANS Hereafter, this is Red Ten and Red Five comin' in. We're to assist with patrols and save the day. Request orders and permission to join up with your fighter wing."

This mission seemed to be cut and dry for Jarck: fly a few laps around this scary ghost ship and help if any trouble shows up. Couldn't be worse than the Vong. Maybe he could get some recognition for the Reds this time around.

 

[Zark San Tekka]

"I am one with the Force and the Force is with me," Zark chanted softly, and as he did so officers and crewmen throughout the Hereafter unconsciously mouthed the words along with him.

On the edges of his perception, the Jedi Master could faintly sense the mind of Admiral Thuku as she channeled her own aptitude for combat meditation. The nebula was beyond the outermost edges of the Widek system, a final cosmological landmark on the route from Galantos, and the Unknown Regions beyond. They were both powerful in the Force, but still there were limits to even a Master's reach. Still, the commander of the investigative task force hoped that [member="Cathul Thuku"] had likewise sensed his militant vibrations. As long as they could sense each other, Zark would know the line held against these pirates, and Thuku would know there was still hope they would put a stop to the Valencia.

Through his connection to the minds of his crew, the Vice Admiral could tell without having to be informed that they were receiving a short range transmission from unidentified Alliance craft. The interference that had manifested made its contents difficult to make out, but eventually his crew cleaned up the message to identify its sender as Red Squadron, reinforcements or merely late arrivals. It took him a few moments to divert enough concentration away from his micro-management of the Hereafter's point defense batteries, but when he found the time all the Jedi had to do was glance at his communications officer, and she had opened a channel to [member="Jarck Rabsch"] in direct reply.

"Hereafter to Red Squadron, under heavy assault. TIE fighters, unknown origin," the comms officer began without having to be told what to say, "Permission to form up granted, requesting immediate assistance with this hornet's nest, over."

The junior officer's repetition of the message in an attempt to cut through the nebula's interference cut through the soundless chanting of the bridge, and Zark refocused his thoughts on the crews of his ship's point defense emplacements. All around the star carrier's distinctive fortress spires, TIEs swarmed. The Valencia continued to rebuff all attempts at communication, and the same went for this phantom starfighters. They had simply appeared out of the star destroyer's hangars, the same hangars his first contact teams had reported as empty, and begun their assault.

They had launched their full complement of combat squadrons in response, but still from what could be made out on sensors they were significantly outnumbered. Something about their readings seemed off, as if they weren't quite there, but their laser cannons were real enough. The admiral had already lost several pilots, despite their elite training and the cover of the Hereafter's guns. Even with the unanticipated support of an assault carrier broadcasting Directorate transponders, this battle's outcome was far from certain.

And the lives of everyone on Widek quite possibly depended on it.

[member="Gir Quee"]​

 

[Duke Dyson]

The jumps to hyperspace always felt long and draining. Wether or not they went for a few hours tops or a little less than expected. This was Jax's first mission with the Rogues but traveling under the blue tunnel felt long and draining. He could die right here of boredom right now if this is what oblivion felt like, it seemed endless and silent; with only the sounds of his X-wing as a reminder that something was about to get exciting. An escort patrol could be nothing but it was the most fun the rookie would have experienced in a number of days after spending his time through simulated exercises and training drills so he wasn't about to pass down the opportunity to show the alliance what he was made of.

Breaking through into the atmosphere of deep space Jax could feel his ship vibrate through the nebula. Through the open window canopy of his starfighter, his eyes were set on the astroid field ahead covered by the mist straight ahead. His sensors were having much difficulty detecting each one on his radar so he maneuvered carefully to avoid a collision once in sight.

"ANS Hereafter, this is Rogue Six on stand by." The star destroyer was now in his reach as a swept look of determination came over his features. It's size for sure put him on edge but he was not even close to panicking in the slightest.

 

[Gir Quee]

Union-class C/A Carrier Ocean Tide, somewhere in the Farlax Sector

A bright flash of cronau radiation announced the Tide's arrival onto the battlefield. Gir had faced down Sith superweapons in remote nebulas and Vong warships over bustling Core worlds, yet he thought he might be entering into one of strangest and disconcerting battlefields in his career. It was easy to muster courage when he knew what he was facing. But now he had only myth, rumor, and equally confused messages from the Alliance vessels present. These were not the intelligence sources he wanted to rely on, yet his sensors weren't being any more helpful.

They had one thing going for them. Drake hadn't brought them to the Alliance fleet: He had dropped the Tide almost on top of the Hereafter. Far closer than Gir would have been comfortable with. Yet for the first time, he was grateful for the AI's sometimes quirky interpretation of his orders. Being as close together as they were, the point defense weapons of both ships would be able to create an intense crossfire and could even cover each other's blindspots, if they could coordinate everything right. Hopkins stared him down.

"Your orders, sir?"

Gir ruefully shook his head, "Get all batteries focused on shooting down those snubfighters."

He turned his gaze upwards to face his mon calamari communication's officer, Nepo.

"Nepo, get me a link with the Hereafter. And try and figure out if those Ties are using communications, and if so, what frequencies they're using. Spool up the frequency jammer to standby."

"Aye sir."

Hopkins blinked, "You think we can jam them?"

"I don't know," said Gir, "but if we can, it'll be a lot easier."

"Because they can't coordinate?"

"Because they won't know where each other are," said Gir, "we might be able induce them to stop cloaking, just so that they don't collide with each other."

Eris, his flight controller, cleared her voice, "Launch fighters?"

"Not yet," said Gir, shaking his head, "let's try figure out just exactly what we're facing before we send our people any further into harm's way..."


[member="Zark"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"]